


Mastering the Vampire

by meyari



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Gen, Platonic Relationship, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-05-18
Updated: 2011-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-19 13:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meyari/pseuds/meyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clark was exposed to a combination of red sunlight and green kryptonite, it robbed him not only of his powers but also of the ability to hide his vampirism from the rest of the League.  After hiding what he was for so long, Clark decides to tell them how he came to be who and what he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mastering the Vampire

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Patrese1 for her winning bid on the Help_Japan lightning round. She wanted more from the Vampire Clark 'verse and hopefully this works.

The atmosphere outside of the locker room felt different when Clark stepped through the door, hand in hand with Lex. It was colder somehow, more suspicious. He could smell fear and revulsion in the air along with the familiar scents of the other members of the Justice League. Bruce's scent was the same as always, the same as it had been since they'd first met so many years ago. His fear of vampires was such a constant that it was barely noticeable anymore.

"What?" Lex asked.

"They know," Clark sighed. "Bruce told them."

"Well, it was kind of obvious what was wrong," Lex sighed. "My question is how Bruce knew. I wasn't aware that he knew about it."

"He's… known since before you saved me," Clark admitted. "Since before I was the Blur, before he was Batman. He's known practically forever."

"What?"

Lex's shock made Clark blush and duck his head because he couldn't, wouldn't, grin. His fangs were still oscillating in response to his powers being gone and the exposure to green kryptonite. The powers probably be back after Clark got some sunshine but for now he was just the vampire, not Superman at all. It felt very strange after all these years.

"When? How?" Lex asked.

"During his travels," Clark said as Bruce appeared at the end of the hallway, his lips curled in a little smile at them both. "And during my hiding years."

"The others…" Bruce's voice trailed off into a frustrated sigh.

"Think I'm a monster," Clark completed for him. "We should explain."

"They know the story, Clark," Bruce said. "I told them how this happened to you."

"No, I don't think they do know the whole story," Clark said thoughtfully. "How could they? I've never told the whole thing. You don't know it. Lex doesn't know. It's… there's so much more than what either of you are aware of. I think… I think it's time I talked about it. I've got a couple hours before I can handle direct sunshine so why not?"

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Lex asked, tugging at Clark's hand to make him look at Lex. He looked worried about Clark, which was no surprise given everything that had happened today.

Clark nodded. Neither Bruce nor Lex looked as though they thought it was a good idea but Clark was tired, tired of hiding, tired of lying. It was hard dealing with everyone without their knowing what he was. He always had Lex on his side, and Bruce in his discreet way, but the League were his friends and his allies. Lying to them about something so basic was hard.

"I'm sure."

They headed into the conference room and everyone stared at Clark as if he was a monster. That wasn't a surprise. Clark had smelled their fear and disgust long before the door opened. Diana was the only one who had a reasonably open expression on her face, though he could smell how on edge she was. With his other powers gone for the moment, Clark had to rely on his vampire's sense of smell. Normally he barely noticed such things as he relied on his Kryptonian powers and ignored his vampiric ones.

"Bruce has explained something of what happened," Diana said when the others only stared and fidgeted.

"He doesn't know everything," Clark said. He let Lex pull him into one of the seats, clinging to Lex's hand. "No one does yet."

"You're really a vampire?" Wally asked as he squirmed in his seat.

"Yeah," Clark said. His normal tight little smile made Wally wince and J'onn frown. "Sorry. I'm really tired. My powers won't come back for a couple of hours yet. I was infected by Lana back in college. She kept me as her personal blood bank so that she could be Queen of the Vampires. Lex figured out a cure and came to stop Lana."

"Unfortunately," Lex said when Clark paused to gather his thoughts, "Clark's metabolism had already adjusted to the change. I'm immune and I regenerate, so I was able to give him the strength to fight her by allowing him to feed on me. Together we defeated Lana and the other vampires, cured them, but there was no way to cure Clark."

"You tried?" J'onn asked so gravely that Clark smiled sadly at him.

"So many times," Clark sighed. "So many times. That's actually how Bruce found out, not that he knew who I was or I knew who he was. He… saved me, saved me from myself and gave me the strength to become a hero, the Blur. Then Lex saved me from the shadows and helped me become Superman."

None of them seemed to know what to make of that. Even Bruce looked puzzled. Lex's grip on Clark's hand was just the wrong side of painful with Clark's invulnerability lowered. He hadn't been this weak since the last time Lana fed on him and that was a memory he truly didn't want to wallow in.

It was hard to remember that time, back before he'd been saved, but Clark knew that he needed to explain it all. As often as Lex had recommended a therapist, Clark had always refused. He didn't think he could trust a therapist to keep his secrets, all of his many secrets, but he did trust these people. Clark didn't know if they'd ever be able to set the very logical and sane fear of vampires aside, but he hoped by explaining what had happened that they'd be able to work with him in the future. He really didn't want to give up being Superman, though he would if he had to.

He really hoped he wouldn't have to.

"It all started with Lana," Clark started to explain, his voice quiet enough that the others leaned forward to listen. "She didn't just feed on me, you know. She did worse, so much worse, sexual things. And those things were what drove me away from Lex at first, not the fear of killing him by feeding on him."

+++++

Clark bit back a scream as he bolted awake, flailing an arm against the Lana in his dreams. Battered blankets covered with patches caught on his arm, exposing his body to the cold air around him. Despite being naked and exposed to the air, he could still feel the filthy bedding, the heavy velvet hangings that Lana had used to hem him in and keep him imprisoned away from the sun for so long. What his eyes saw was snow and a low shelter made of branches and sticks, though his mind still tried to interpret the tiny shelter as velvet for far too long.

"Easy," a man's voice said far too close to Clark. "You're safe."

"Who?" Clark gasped as he twisted around to stare at the stranger. He clutched the blanket to his waist automatically as the awareness of his complete nakedness finally sank in.

The stranger smiled a tiny smile that really was anything other than an expression of amusement while offering Clark a tin mug with steaming water in it. His ratty clothes were dark, dirty and threadbare and he had dark armor of some sort over the top of them. The brown hair looked as though he'd been weeks or longer without washing, or as if he'd been caught in a fire as there were smudges on his cheeks. His bright blue eyes were so sharp and intelligent that Clark backed away.

"Easy," the man repeated. "It's just water."

"I don't want it," Clark said, pressing back against the fragile wood posts holding the shelter up. "I'm fine. Who are you? What do you want?"

"Nobody and nothing," the man replied. "I found you collapsed in a snowdrift and built this shelter. Thought you'd appreciate not being dead."

From the expression on his face he wasn't sure if he'd made the right choice. Clark winced and wrapped the blanket around his legs so that he wasn't exposed to those bright eyes. The cold of the night didn't bother him, nor did the snow surrounding them. He didn't recognize the windswept desolation around them. It wasn't the pure snow and ice of the arctic as there were mountains hemming them in and trees behind them, but it wasn't a place that Clark had ever been.

"Where are we?" Clark asked a great deal more politely this time.

He couldn't quite remember what had happened. In the months since Lex had stopped Lana and saved the world, Clark had repeatedly asked Jor-El to purge the vampire virus from his system. Most of the time nothing at all happened. Sometimes there was pain from the attempts. The last few times had been so horrific that Clark had been driven half mad by the blood thirst and pain.

After this last attempt, which Clark finally noticed had left him mottled by bruises that made it hard to move or breathe, he'd flown out of the Fortress and into the sky as if flying into the sun would make it all go away. It hadn't. He'd gone out into orbit, screaming the last of his air away, and then plummeted back to earth like a comet. The last thing that Clark remembered was wishing that the impact would finally end his life. Apparently he hadn't gotten his wish.

"Not that far from Mt Chagdo Kongri, in its southern foothills," the man replied calmly. He raised an eyebrow at Clark's blank look. "It's roughly halfway between Mani and Memar Lake."

"Um, country?" Clark asked hesitantly.

"…Tibet."

Clark's cheeks burned at the look the other man gave him; as if he was trying to assess exactly what Clark had been on to get so lost that he didn't know what part of the world he was in. The silence stretched for so long that it took on a life of its own. There wasn't anything that Clark could say to the curiosity and suspicion in the other man's eyes and the other man seemed perfectly willing to let Clark be silent for as long as he wanted. All he did was set the mug of rapidly cooling water within Clark's reach.

"Kent," Clark said finally.

"Hmm?"

"Kent," Clark repeated. "You can call me Kent."

"Then you can call me Gotham," the man said, amusement in his eyes though it didn't translate to his lips.

"...Seriously?" Clark asked and then had to duck his head against a grin at Gotham's faint blush.

"It's where I'm from," Gotham said with a not-casual shrug that held as much tension as Clark's shoulders did. "Where I was from, anyway. I haven't been back in… years."

"Oh."

Clark picked up the mug and sort of played with it without drinking from it. Gotham watched him and eventually offered Clark a tiny bag of tea that Clark shook his head at. Once his heart stopped pounding from the remnants of his dream and the shock of finding himself so far from home, Clark became intensely aware of the pound and swish of Gotham's blood in his veins.

"I have some spare clothes," Gotham offered when Clark started shaking.

"No, I'm fine," Clark said a little desperately.

"You can't walk around naked," Gotham huffed. "It's too cold and the farmers will object."

He pulled out a pair of patched pants and a black shirt that looked as though it was nearly transparent it was so worn. Rather than passing them to Clark, he tossed them over. Clark pulled them on though the fabric did nothing to help him deal with the hunger that was rising inside of him. Gotham watched with a little frown that deepened as Clark curled into a ball.

"Who was she?" Gotham asked.

"What?" Clark asked, startled enough to look up and meet Gotham's eyes.

"Red," Gotham breathed, awe in his expression. "Your eyes…"

"Oh God," Clark gasped as he slapped his hand over his mouth to hide the fangs. "I'm sorry."

Gotham stood and walked away, his back so stiff that he was obviously freaking out. The further away he went the more Clark relaxed. By the time Gotham was a half dozen yards away Clark almost felt like himself again, even though he was still desperately hungry. Eventually Gotham turned around and stared at Clark.

"You're a vampire."

"The last, as far as I know," Clark admitted. "I hope I'm the last. I should be the last. I think I'm the last, anyway."

"That's who Lana was," Gotham said thoughtfully. "Lana Lang. You called her name in your sleep."

Just hearing her name made Clark shudder and curl into a ball. Memories of Lana before she became a vampire mixed with the horrors she visited on him afterwards, overwhelming Clark and making him whimper. He didn't hear Gotham come back over to his side but the blanket wrapped around Clark's shoulders, sheltering him in warmth that Clark didn't really need.

Eventually the flashback receded enough that Clark became aware of the world again. Gotham was sitting by his side, just outside of easy reach, stirring a little pot that held watery stew. Clark eased back a little, the hunger slowly rising up again. They sat in silence until Gotham pulled his stew off of the fire and pulled out a spoon.

"I suppose you don't need any," Gotham said entirely too calmly.

"You should be afraid," Clark whispered. "You are afraid. I can tell."

"You're wearing my spare clothes," Gotham said, still in that too calm voice. Fear filled his scent but it didn't seem to affect him. "I trust that you won't ruin my clothes given that they're only on loan to you. It would be very poor thanks for my hospitality."

Clark laughed in spite of himself. It wasn't a very funny joke but it was enough to break the ice between them. Gotham relaxed a tiny bit, though the fear didn't subside at all. As night came on Clark gave the blanket back to Gotham so that he wouldn't freeze. Once Gotham fell asleep Clark added more wood to the fire and then slipped away. It was too dangerous for Clark to stay with him, with the hunger rising so high that Clark could barely control himself.

Gotham's breathing was perfectly calm when Clark looked back at his tiny shelter. He obviously wasn't asleep; Clark could see the gleam of his eyes in the darkness, but he was doing his best to seem as though he was. The snow under Clark's bare feet didn't feel terribly cold, nor did the chilly air. Off to Clark's right the moon rose over the mountains, whichever of the Himalayas he was looking at. It cast light across their little snowy valley and highlighted a group of men in black sneaking towards Gotham's fire.

It took the moonlight glinting off of a knife for Clark to move. As the men moved to attack Gotham, Clark charged back towards the shelter. Gotham seemed to see him because he gasped something garbled only to curse as Clark went straight past him and attacked the other men. They were wearing black clothes and armor like Gotham's though with face masks as though they were ninjas, and were obviously very well trained to fight. Their knives and swords broke on Clark's skin, leaving him unharmed. One went flying a good hundred yards when Clark hit him. The second fell at his feet unmoving after a light slap to the head and the third's pounding heartbeat was a siren call to Clark's hunger, despite the way the man begged for mercy in a language Clark didn't know.

"Kent, don't!" Gotham growled.

He flung an arm around Clark's neck, trying to haul him back and away from the attacking ninja. Clark growled but strangely the fear in Gotham's scent was no greater or lesser now that he'd seen what Clark could do. After a moment, Clark allowed Gotham to pull him backwards, away from the ninja who dropped at Clark's feet and gasped for air.

"Don't." Gotham's voice was quiet and calm despite his continuing fear. "You don't want to do this. That's why you were leaving, right? Because you didn't want to feed on me."

"Yes," Clark admitted in a pained whimper. "Yeah. God, it's so hard! The hunger claws at me and I just… it's so hard."

"Let him go," Gotham said. "Let them all go. Is there anything you can eat besides blood?"

"Not really," Clark admitted as he stepped back, away from the ninja who stared at Clark in terror and from Gotham who gazed at him with perfect, calm acceptance despite his scent full of fear. "There's… a place I can go to get a substitute for blood but... it's a long ways away. I don't need to drink all that much. And… the provider is kind of crazy so I don't trust him."

"No cure?" Gotham asked.

The simple question made Clark shudder. This last attempt was the last attempt. Even Jor-El had admitted that there were no other things that could be done to try and rid Clark of the hunger that now ruled his life. When Clark shook his head no Gotham sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. They watched in silence as the sole conscious ninja ran away into the moonlit night.

Clark helped Gotham pack up his few belongings, refusing to wrap Gotham's blanket around his shoulders. It wasn't as though Clark needed it. They headed south, towards the rough road that Gotham said connected Gerze to Coqen, which then led onwards to the main road that led to Lhasa. After a couple of hours of tromping through the snow, Gotham finally allowed Clark to carry him.

"I don't know what you're hoping to accomplish, Kent," Gotham complained as he wrapped his arms around Clark's neck. "I know you're fast but you still have to walk through the snow."

"Um, not so much," Clark said. "Hold on tight."

Gotham gasped when Clark took to the air. Flying was almost enough to make Clark forget about the hunger, though having Gotham that close to him brought it back to his mind every couple of seconds. His body was so sore and his power levels were so low that flying was a challenge. Adding that to the darkness of the night which made it hard for him to see where they were going meant that he flew low and slow until they found the road that Gotham had spoken of. When they landed on the rutted dirt road, Gotham laughed breathlessly.

"That was incredible," Gotham said, one hand still on Clark's shoulder.

"You're always afraid," Clark commented. "The fear never gets better or worse. Ever since you realized what I am the fear's been steady."

"…Bats terrify me," Gotham said while dropping his hand as if Clark was on fire. "Vampires are the essence of bats for me."

"But it doesn't change," Clark repeated. "I don't understand. How can the fear stay so steady? Doesn't it get to you?"

Gotham laughed quietly as he turned and headed along the road in what Clark assumed was the right direction for Lhasa. Clark followed him, the rocks and mud not bothering his feet at all. They walked in silence for almost an hour before Gotham sighed and shrugged. There were hours to go before the sun rose to burn at Clark's eyes and make it hard for him to handle the vampire side of his soul while the Kryptonian side begged for more sunshine.

"There are ways of learning to control your emotions, Kent," Gotham said. "It takes time and effort but it can be done. You have some control over your hunger. You could probably master it eventually if you tried."

The confused expression on Clark's face made Gotham laugh again. He started explaining in that same calm voice about meditation and focus and finding the center that allows you to push away the needs of your body so that you could do what you need to do. When dawn came Clark flinched but he kept walking next to Gotham until his eyes stopped watering and the sunshine started feeling good.

Gotham's eyes went wide as Clark's bruises faded away under the light of the sun. He'd apparently expected the opposite effect but he didn't ask and Clark didn't offer. Instead Gotham explained several methods of moving meditation, focusing on each move your body made, the feel of your feet as they hit the ground, that might help Clark keep control. Clark tried it and found that it did help with his hunger, though that might be the sun keeping his body minimally nourished instead.

They caught a ride with an ox cart for a while, spent the night in the farmer's barn, and then went on the next morning. Gotham kept talking, explaining things in his calm, patient way when Clark asked questions. That night they slept in the open beside the road. Clark kept watch for most of the night and then woke Gotham about two hours before dawn, much to his annoyance. That morning they meditated together. It helped, to Clark's surprise, as did the marmot that Gotham managed to stun with a flung stone. Clark drank the blood, cringing at showing Gotham what he was, and then Gotham cooked what was left.

After a week of slowly traveling together, sometimes riding on people's carts or trucks, they reached one of the larger towns that had a bus that could take the two of them to Lhasa. Gotham insisted on getting Clark his own clothes and a pair of shoes, despite Clark's insistence that he didn't need them. Clark ended up in a faded red shirt and indigo dyed pants with low boots that felt good against his bare feet.

"Thank you," Clark murmured as Gotham packed his spare clothes away in his bag.

"You're welcome," Gotham replied.

"I should go," Clark said as they headed to the bus station, which was nothing more than a spot where people gathered on the side of the road.

"Too many people?" Gotham asked.

"I…"

The crowd of people waiting for the bus was only a dozen or so but to Clark they felt like an army, an army of walking, talking temptation. Every single one of them pulsed with blood that Clark could hear and nearly taste. It made him start shivering again so Gotham pushed them down a one-block-long side alley that probably qualified as a main road in this tiny Tibet town.

Once he could breathe without shaking from the bloodlust, Clark nodded even though he suspected that Gotham would walk the entire way to Lhasa if that's what Clark wanted. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to get home most of the time but every so often Clark caught him looking into the distance with intense longing filling his eyes. Gotham did have somewhere to be, something he needed to do. Clark was a distraction along the way.

"I need to go back," Clark said finally. "I need, the animal blood isn't enough, Gotham. I need to go back to my father and see if there's anything else we can do. The substitute blood isn't very good but maybe we can make it work well enough that I won't hunger so badly."

"Eventually you're going to have to get used to being around people," Gotham said in his calm, thoughtful way.

"I know," Clark sighed. "It's… hard. The things you've taught me help, a lot, but… I still need to feed and I won't do that. I won't. It's horrible."

Gotham nodded and patted Clark's shoulder as if he was simply a friend instead of a deadly threat that Gotham was consistently terrified of. None of the fear showed in his expression or stance. He looked as though he was sad to see Clark go but unsurprised that Clark would chose to leave.

"Be careful, Kent," Gotham said.

"You too, Gotham," Clark replied. "I think those ninjas are still hunting you."

"Perhaps," Gotham said with such a ferocious expression that Clark blinked at the transformation in his friend. "But they won't succeed. You've given me a good head start and I'll win the battle against them."

Clark took a step backwards as Gotham looked towards the main road. The bus was there, a rattling old machine with chickens in coops on the top and people filling the seats. Some people were perched on top among the luggage. There was no way that Clark would have been able to ride it, not with that much temptation in one place. Gotham smiled and pulled Clark into a surprising hug.

"Take care of yourself, Kent," Gotham murmured before releasing him and heading for the bus with a purposeful stride.

"You too, Gotham," Clark called and smiled as Gotham only waved a hand over his shoulder. "You too."

+++++

"I had no idea you had known each other for so long," Diana mused when Clark paused to catch his breath.

The sun was pouring into the conference room and it made Clark's eyes burn and water. Lex kept rubbing Clark's arm gently, offering what little comfort he could during the telling of his tale and the other's questions. Bruce had sat silently through the entire thing, smiling quietly at Clark as he spoke. It was strangely like being back in Tibet with just the two of them.

"We didn't know who each other were until much later," Bruce said with a casual shrug, "but yes, I knew. I knew before I took up the mask."

"You're really that afraid of him?" Wally asked. He'd started twitching a couple of minutes into Clark's story.

"Yes." Bruce chuckled when Clark answered for him, gesturing for Clark to continue. "I can always smell if someone's afraid of me. Bruce is really weird because the fear's a constant. Everyone else's fear comes and goes depending on what I'm doing, what they're feeling, what sort of distractions there are. I'm not sure why his fear is constant."

"It's a phobia," Bruce explained. "It's one that I've controlled but the fear remains. I find it… inspiring."

"…And people think vampires are scary," Clark commented with a sidelong stare at Bruce that made him grin wickedly.

"So Bruce returned to Gotham and you returned to Metropolis, yes?" J'onn asked.

"No," Clark said. "Bruce did return to Gotham and become Batman but I didn't go to Metropolis, not for another two years. I… I went back to the Fortress and Jor-El, hoping to find something that would cure me or at least let me deal with the hunger."

+++++

"Welcome Kal-El, my son."

The words echoed out of nowhere, filling the cold, sterile Fortress. Clark sighed and landed close to the control panel. Snow had drifted into the Fortress, filling the cracks between the great crystals like dust in the corners of a more normal house. As barren as Clark had thought Tibet was, the Fortress felt far more barren and lifeless. He shivered, more from the thought than from any sensation of cold.

"It didn't work," Clark said as he ran the tip of his finger over one of the control crystals. "I'm still a vampire."

"Ah."

"I think I'm always going to be a vampire, Jor-El," Clark continued as if Jor-El hadn't made the little noise that could be acknowledgement, sadness or any other emotion, always presuming that Jor-El was capable of feeling emotion. Clark didn't think that he was. "There aren't any other things to try to get rid of it, are there?"

"…I have no further research possibilities that will not cause catastrophic damage to your body, my son," Jor-El said. This time he did sound ever so faintly sad.

"If we can't cure the vampirism, maybe we can find something that will keep the hunger down," Clark offered. "You know, a food or drug that will keep me from wanting the blood so bad."

Silence echoed for a long moment that was made longer by Clark's nervousness speeding his awareness up so that a second seemed to last thirty seconds. Eventually several glowing screens appeared in front of Clark, each detailing different options that they could try to deal with the hunger. Clark let out the breath he'd been holding and smiled.

"Let's try the least difficult one first," Clark said, "and then work up to the more intense things if that doesn't work."

"I shall begin production immediately," Jor-El said.

The regular blood substitute was a wan pink fluid that Clark had always thought tasted like really bad strawberry pudding that had been watered down. Adjusting it made it taste like wood and did nothing for the hunger. A second adjustment made it look more like blood but the viscosity made it like drinking syrup. Clark spent a long day throwing up afterwards, unable to get the feel of it out of his mouth.

Jor-El tried different formulas, different drugs, different viscosities and colorations. They spent a solid year trying to perfect one formulation that seemed to be very promising but whenever Clark went out of the Fortress to see if he could interact with people it made the hunger spike unpredictably, which made his eyes flash red and his fangs appear no matter how he tried to control it.

A second, apparently promising, formulation drove him so mad that Jor-El imprisoned Clark in the Fortress for three months. It took that long for the remnants of the drug to be purged from his system. Once he returned to sanity Clark found that he'd gouged claw marks into some of the crystals and even Jor-El seemed a little afraid of him.

The days ticked onwards as they tried every single option that Jor-El had. Nothing worked better than occasional animal blood and spending a lot of time sunbathing. The sun still stung Clark's eyes but it kept the physical hunger at bay fairly well. His vampiric hunger seemed to be independent of his physical needs.

"I can't… stay here any longer," Clark said after two years had passed with no success. "I just can't, Jor-El."

"It would be good for you to fulfill your destiny," Jor-El said with what sounded like relief.

"…I can't rule the world if I can't get close to them, Jor-El," Clark sighed. He'd hoped that Jor-El had given up on the whole rule the world thing. There hadn't been a mention of it during the long years of trying to deal with Clark's vampirism. "I have to live in the shadows. You can't rule from the shadows."

Jor-El's sigh was something similar to a breeze through the Fortress. He made no efforts to stop Clark from leaving, though he did give Clark new clothes. Black jeans, a black shirt and a long black trench coat suited Clark's mood. They sort of reminded him of Gotham. They also reminded him of Lex.

Clark flew to Metropolis before he could think about it too hard. The last time he'd been in the city had been the night that Lex freed Clark and ended Lana's rule as the Queen of the Vampires. He remembered Metropolis as being dark, full of broken windows and abandoned cars. It had looked dead, killed by Lana's greed and vanity.

The Metropolis he found was bright and full of life. The windows were all fixed and the lights were on. So many lights filled the city that it fairly blazed with color and movement. It was alive, as alive as a person would be. Clark smiled and settled into the roof of the Daily Planet to stare out over the city that he'd thought destroyed but which was now restored.

It didn't take long to figure out what had happened. Lex had spent the last two and a half years rebuilding the city and bringing it back to live. Billboards advertised Lex's various efforts to restore the city while the newspapers Clark fished out of the trash spoke about Lex's many philanthropic activities. The vampires were a thing of the past. Metropolis had moved on, moved into the future that they seemed determined to create for themselves.

Lex didn't seem to have moved on at all. Clark watched him in the night as he and his people searched for Clark. Every night after work, Lex spent hours trying to track down where Clark might have gone and what he might have done. He didn't seem aware of the time Clark had spent in Tibet with Gotham but there was no surprise in that. Neither of them had done anything significant while they were there.

The part that bothered Clark was that every time he looked at Lex his fangs grew and a different sort of lust filled him. It scared him that he could think of touching Lex the way Lana had touched Clark. No matter how those terrible experiences had scarred Clark, he didn't want to think that they'd warped him into the sort of person who would rape his best friend. Yet every glimpse of Lex made Clark's fangs grow and his pants fill out.

It was terrifying.

After weeks spent haunting the sparse shadows of Metropolis and saving people while moving so quickly that he couldn't be seen, Clark sighed and flew to Gotham. Even with using his speed, trying to save people was a challenge. Every time he got close to anyone the hunger clawed at him and Lex haunted his mind now that Clark was back in the real world. Finding his friend Gotham was easy enough. He was on a rooftop in a bad neighborhood of Gotham City, staring down at the street.

"I don't know what to call you now," Clark commented as he landed not too near to his friend and stopped vibrating so that he could be seen. "It seems strange to call you Gotham when we're in Gotham."

"Kent," Gotham said, his lips quirking in a little smile. His bat mask shifted a little as if he'd raised one eyebrow. "Call me Batman. It's the name they know me by now."

"You look like the stereotype of a vampire," Clark chuckled. He kept his lips firmly shut so his oscillating fangs wouldn't upset Batman. The flash of his eyes couldn't be missed but Batman had never minded that.

"Deliberately," Batman replied with a tight smirk of his own. "I want to inspire fear among the criminals of Gotham. Sharing my fear… works well. Any success?"

Clark sighed and shook his head no. Batman stepped to his side and laid an armored hand on Clark's shoulder. Neither of them said a word about it after that. They didn't have the time. A bright bat symbol appeared on the clouds overhead and Clark heard someone going after Lex back in Metropolis. They nodded to each other and parted ways.

Over the next few weeks Clark visited Gotham several times, each time seeking Batman out. Once he was in the middle of a battle. By the time Clark sorted out who was dangerous and who was just caught in the crossfire Batman had dealt with the criminals and there was nothing for him to do. During the second visit he found Batman in a shipping container that hid an underground base with his butler by his side.

"Wayne?" Clark asked with so much awe that Bruce laughed at him. "You're Bruce _Wayne?_ What in the world were you doing in Tibet?"

"Learning to fight," Bruce said grimly enough that Clark frowned. "The ninjas you fought were… the remnants of the people I trained with. It's complicated, Kent."

"Somehow I think your levels of complicated approach my levels," Clark sighed. "And it's Clark."

"What?" Bruce didn't react to the amusement on Alfred's face that he'd been surprised but Clark did, grinning for a second before Alfred gasped at seeing the fangs.

"My name," Clark said. "It's Clark. Clark Kent."

"Hmm, I thought you were from Kent State," Bruce mused. "My mistake."

"Decent guess," Clark said. He didn't react as Alfred bowed and then hurried upstairs. "I should go."

"Why do you keep coming back?" Bruce asked.

"I… don't know how to get close to people without feeding on them," Clark admitted. "I mean, I spent all that time with you but it was different. When I'm saving people, touching them, the hunger… it's bad."

Bruce studied him for a long while, that same old calm expression on his face. For a wild moment Clark thought that the face he wore now was the true mask and the mask he wore as Batman was who Bruce truly was but Clark knew better. Neither of them were masks. They were just different parts of who Bruce was.

"Have you fed on any of them?" Bruce asked.

"No!" Clark squawked. "That's horrible! I won't do that!"

Bruce chuckled and stood. He put both of his hands on Clark's shoulders, staring into Clark's red eyes without the slightest shift in his fond expression or in the scent of his constant fear. The hunger clawed at Clark during that long moment but after a bit it subsided into curiosity.

"Clark," Bruce said, "you have the tools you need. It isn't easy and I doubt that you'll ever feel completely comfortable around people but you've already got what you need to return to normal life. All you have to do is do it. You proved that you could two years ago when we traveled together."

The confidence in Bruce's voice made Clark pause and really consider. He'd been so tempted to feed so many times but he'd resisted every single time. No one he'd met had truly pushed him past his ability to control his hunger, other than Lex. Thoughts of Lex made Clark shudder and step away from Bruce.

"There is someone who pushes your control," Bruce surmised.

"Yeah," Clark sighed while rubbing his arms. "It really freaks me out. He's… I shouldn't… but he's…"

"Lex Luthor," Bruce mused, nodding slowly and then grinning at Clark's startled look.

"How do you do that?" Clark asked.

"I've trained myself to be the world's greatest detective, Clark," Bruce said so smugly that Clark snorted at him. "Figuring out who you're in love with is easy enough."

"Love?"

Clark's heart felt like it stopped in his chest at the suggestion. He'd always been fascinated by Lex, ever since the moment that Lex hit him on the bridge back in Smallville, but he'd never allowed himself to think of it as love. Bruce's gentle smile made Clark start pacing as he tried to sort through all the emotions the word had brought up.

Memories of Lana battled with memories of Lex, along with all the comments and lessons he'd gotten from his parents about what he should want. Wanting another man was always been wrong in his parents' eyes but they were gone, killed by Lana's vampires, and there was no one for Clark to talk to about it. Bruce let him pace, watching and waiting until Clark calmed down.

"I never…"

"Obviously," Bruce replied. "You should at least try and talk to him, Clark. Don't let love slip through your fingers. It's… sometimes you can't ever get it back."

Bruce's calm mask of an expression slid into something full of grief and loss. Even with Clark's avoidance of the rest of humanity, he'd heard about the Joker's actions and the destruction in Gotham. He'd heard about the loss of Rachel Dawes. He didn't need to be a detective to tell that Bruce had cared about her deeply. There didn't seem to be anything to say to that so Clark just sighed and nodded.

"He's… still looking for me," Clark admitted. "Three years later and he's still looking for me."

"Go see him," Bruce suggested. "Maybe he can help where no one else can, Clark. All I can do is give you advice. Maybe Lex can find something else for you to feed on that will help."

"Doubt it," Clark said but he nodded that Bruce made sense. "Apologize to Alfred for me? I didn't mean to scare him."

"Stop wearing such threatening clothing and you'll be less scary when you slip up," Bruce said with an amused smirk. "Leave the dark vampire-wear to me, Clark."

That startled a spluttered laugh out of Clark. It took him several more weeks before he worked up the nerve to fly to Lex's penthouse and another four days beyond that before he could bring himself to speak to Lex. Seeing Lex was so different from interacting with anyone else that Clark wasn't sure he'd ever be able to control himself.

+++++

"There is literally nothing that controls the hunger?" Diana asked.

They'd stopped for coffee and snacks, neither of which Clark ate but he fiddled with a mug of coffee out of pure habit. The members of the League had relaxed by turns, each of them calming over various bits of Clark's story. Even Dinah and Ollie, the most suspicious of the League, had relaxed once they realized just how much Clark had tried to control his hunger.

"The only thing that works is Lex's blood," Clark admitted without looking up. "His blood lets me live among people. Without it, I'd have to live in the Fortress."

"And you can keep any questions about that to yourselves," Lex declared fiercely enough that Clark grinned at him. "Keep your noses out of our bedroom."

Bruce chuckled and Diana laughed outright. The laughter seemed to break the last of the League's horror. They didn't smell of fear anymore, other than Bruce's constant fear. Instead there was acceptance, humor and a sort of shame coming from them. Discussion turned to the mission that had taken Clark's powers and revealed him, and then on to everyday discussions. Lex stood and pulled Clark from the room so that they could go home. No one objected and a few waved goodbye.

"You handled that very well," Lex commented once they were back in the penthouse behind closed doors.

"It doesn't bother you?" Clark asked as they both pulled off their clothes so that they could head to bed.

"Your friendship with Bruce?" Lex asked. He chuckled at Clark's nod of confirmation. "Of course not. I trust you Clark. You told me ages ago that he was a friend and nothing more. Bruce agreed. Everything that you told us today confirms it. No matter what your various fan girls might think, it is perfectly possible for two men to be close friends without it devolving into sex."

Clark laughed and pulled Lex close. The sexual trauma from Lana's rapes was still there. It would always be there. He couldn't imagine a time when getting to touch Lex would be anything other than the greatest gift he would ever receive, but after their years together it was easier than it had been in the beginning.

"Love you," Clark murmured against the curve of Lex's neck.

"Love you too, Clark," Lex sighed. "Come on. Let's go to bed, have some kinky vampire sex and then sleep. It's been a long day and I think we've both earned the night off."

They settled into bed together, the wide platform bed absolutely nothing like Lana's old four-poster at the sorority. Just as the bed was completely different, Lex was completely different from her. Everything in Clark's life was different now and he couldn't help but be glad of it. His past, good and bad, would never go away, but he was home now.

"Home," Clark sighed and smiled when Lex ran his fingers through Clark's hair.

"Yes, our home. Forever."

"No, not the house," Clark said and then smiled at Lex's blush. "You."


End file.
